Captivating
by Profound Secret
Summary: Quinn read into details all the time, but never had she thought twice about her relationship with Rachel Berry. That was until the confession. Suddenly, nothing could mean anything and anything could mean nothing. Faberry
1. Many Words with Double Meanings

Hi there.

This is my first Faberry fic. So I apologize greatly if the characters are OOC(Plus all the spelling/grammar mistakes). When I started writing this I realized I had no idea how to write Quinn. My chapters are going to directly correspond with the episodes so this one takes place during the 12/6 one. Err 'Hold on to Sixteen' I think it was.

Anyways please read and review!

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or else a lesbian colony would've formed by now.

* * *

><p>The confession suited Rachel Berry perfectly. It was brutally honest, abrasive, lengthy, and overly articulate. Quinn as an instinctive response was first irritated (a reaction that had lessened over the past few months though) before her brain scanned over the words Rachel was spewing at a breathless speed.<p>

"Well you see, more recently, I have been experiencing some abnormalities in my feelings towards you. Not that they are malicious, no not that. But they are drastically different than before. I have considered the fact that you were raised in a more religious environment-not that you would have any stereotypical prejudice, but in general society," She took a deep breath of air. Her brown eyes lifted their gaze off of the tiles of the abandoned McKinely hallway. They searched Quinn's face for any signs of emotion.

She continued in her same steady matter of fact way, "Recently," she paused, "I have been experiencing a sort of sexual attraction towards you." Her smile was humorless, "I thought it would be rather perverse of me not to tell you and of course the matter of Finn comes into the equation bu-"

Quinn swiftly cut her off before the girl started to digress completely, "Rachel". Her head snapped away from her own rambles. Her entire body was still. From the tip of her brunette hair to the wedges of her shoes, not a single part of her was moving. The usual energetic, overzealous, star singer of McKinely was frozen. Quinn fleeting thought of how fascinating it was to have someone so transformed just for her next sentence.

Quinn had gotten dozens of confessions in her life. Never one from a girl, as the lesbian population of Lima consisted mainly of Santana and Brittany; but nonetheless she knew how to deal with these situations.

It did leave her a bit shocked. This was after all, Rachel, Rachel Berry, her notorious enemy and prime target for torturing for the majority of their high school years. Yet here she was. Bottom lip caught in between clenched teeth to suppress any outburst, and stare filled with such confusion and raw uncertainty that Quinn had never seen in her before. Her hands were fisting the black fabric of her dress, and her chest barely moving up and down with shallow breaths.

The cheering of their Glee club at the end of their performance had withered down to a dull roar. The winner had yet to be announced, and Quinn had slipped out for a breath of air. When she had seen Rachel on her heels she had expected the girl to give her last best attempt on a persuasive argument for Quinn not to reveal the relationship between the Troubletones' coach and Puck.

She hadn't expected this.

"I'm not particularly looking for an answer. More of…clarification of how I should interact with you in the future is my intention."

Quinn's expression was cold. It was a difficult face to form after the high from her sectional performance. But all she had to do was remember the Cheerio's face-pursued lips, and an unwavering retort, "Rachel, I have _a lot_ going on at the moment," her tone lost its rough edge, "With Shelby and Puck and Beth." Other emotions were worming their way in, and her mind was being trapped in the same confliction it had been since her prior discussion with Shelby.

A conjecture with a pleading inflection brought her back, "I do not think it is a good idea to expose their relationship, even though it is gross and unprofessional. You must think what is best for Beth!" Her eyebrows were knitted together in an expression that reminded Quinn of a begging dog.

Anger was boiling inside of her again. A familiar occurrence as of late and now it had rose to the point where her entire body was being devoured in it. How could she know? How could she possible understand the reasons why? Quinn rolled her eyes as the girl continued to rant about the immortalities of what Puck and her birth mother were doing, but how much Quinn would regret telling.

"I don't know what I'm going to do right now Rachel." She didn't sound vulnerable, just stately, that left Rachel with no reassurance. There was a silence, and Quinn instantly knew that she had interpreted it as an application to more than one thing.

"Shelby could lose her job, and it would completely destroy your relationship with Puck." Her hands left the position on the bottom of her dress to clasp in front of her with fingers interlocked. "Something like that changes things, and makes it difficult to revert back to normal."

Quinn felt like the latter part was not about the Shelby situation. She had apparently not made her rejection clear enough, because Rachel was still standing their waiting for an answer. Her mouth curled in disgust. How did someone who was bullied to the point of what should be tears be standing here confessing this?

She opened her mouth to speak again, but the blaring noise of the loud speaker interrupted her.

The dull voice of some great birthday clown (who Quinn thought was a rather idiotic choice for a judge) was announcing for all performers to return to the stage for the results. A mass of Glee clubbers filed out of the classrooms and the eruption of noise drowned whatever Quinn could say.

Finn looked absolutely delighted to see his girlfriend standing in the hallway, not even acknowledging the odd occurrence of the two standing together alone. He would brush it off as girl bonding, if he even thought about the event after. He wrapped an arm around Rachel's waist, and Quinn was swept up in the crowd and cheers.

The two exchanged one last look. Quinn over her shoulder as she walked next to a chattering Tina and Mike, and Rachel pressed against Finn's chest. It could've meant a lot of things, but neither of them knew specifically.

For Rachel it meant that Quinn was considering an answer. For Quinn it meant a clear rejection. However, there was one thing both of their minds agreed on.

Quinn should've been shell-shocked, and repulsed to an extreme extent. But yet, she wasn't. Why, why in the world was that?

* * *

><p>They two didn't talk. Or rather they didn't have an opportunity to talk.<p>

Mr. Schue had ushered them back to his apartment for a congratulatory party. Apparently, he had been suspecting or incredibly hopeful of their win, because the apartment was completely decked in decoration. Streamers hung from his ceiling, and a banner stretched across the couch with blocky letter writing that read, 'Congratulations New Directions!"

Ms. Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester both had tears welled up in their eyes. The group tripped over their own feet to embrace each other. Normally Quinn would not think anything of Rachel next to her engaging in the same huddle like group hug. Well there may be a hint of annoyance and a bit of disgust in the past, but usually it was nothing.

For some reason even though she was squished between Puck's broad chest and Finn's large arm was wrapped around her shoulders, Quinn was more aware of the very minimum amount her and Rachel were touching. Her bare legs were hardly brushing against Quinn's nylons, and the skirts of their clothing collided when everyone pressed closer together.

She briefly wondered if it was during one of these, where their breaths were mingling, limbs coming in contact, and happiness racing through their hearts that Rachel first felt it. The attraction she was ranting about before. Quinn had been told she was pretty, more than once, even if Sam for some unbelievable reason shot her down, she still knew he thought she was pretty.

Is that what Rachel also believed?

They all pulled away from each other. They were laughing and giggling and repeating words of how much they loved life at the moment. Quinn looked over to Finn. He had his arm around his girlfriend and pressed a kiss that spread into a grin on the top of her head. Rachel leaned into him. Her face almost reaching his bicep and her cheek pressed against his chest.

She certainly looked as if she was pleased to be within his arms. As she should, after how she had persistently fought for him over the past years.

Rachel was laughing at something Finn said. Quinn's cherry red lips were in their own small smile of joy from the previous events. Then they made eye contact. They both knew they weren't directing their grins at each other; they weren't being that friendly with one another, it was something else that was making them both laugh and cheer.

Still, Rachel's delighted face struck a chord with Quinn, and both quickly looked away.

* * *

><p>The party settled down. The only other dramatic event of the evening was their phone call to the Troubletones with an offer to join them. Mercedes had responded with a 'Hell No' in her are-you-freaking-kidding-me voice. Santana had told Finn that they should really be celebrating he didn't roll off the stage, and that she thought she may puke from being near him and his midget girlfriend who would only have a future of having kids that would be shoved into lockers for the combination of their Pillsbury Doughboy flab, and elf height'.<p>

Quinn usually found Santana's insults amusing in a bitter, jaded sort of way.

They protested and offered multiple reasons why they should join them, but they were answered with yelling in Spanish from Santana followed by Mercedes hanging up the phone.

It didn't go on far into the night. They did have school tomorrow after all, and this party was being supervised by two teachers. They sent them home early. There wasn't too many grumbles or groans; they were still too high on winning to complain.

Quinn chose to drive home on her own. Usually she would've accepted Puck's offer, but the smirk that tugged at his mouth and the way he stared at her with such intensity meant that he wanted-something. Rachel was being escorted by Finn home. God knows what the two of them were doing, the very thought made her nauseas.

She was over Finn, he had made his decision; there was no reason for her to pursue him or have any sort of lingering feelings towards him. Why was it though that she couldn't wrap her head around that the two were together?

She stopped walking. Of course, Quinn _really _didn't like to lose.

Her car was only a few feet away from her. She had parked a ways away because of the multitude of vehicles. The night had settled in early, and the sky was almost completely dark except for the few stars that had begun to expose themselves.

She pressed her finger tips to the side of her head next to her throbbing temples. She shook her head as if trying to shoo away any other further thoughts. _This is ridiculous, I simply haven't been able to…properly talk about this_.

The quiet clicks of her heels were the only noises of the street. The other members were lingering at their cars and had yet to leave. It was easy to hear the running footsteps chasing after her. She knew who they belonged to before she turned around.

"Quinn!"

Rachel stood seven feet away from her. The dark color of her dress blended in with the night, but the white layer at the top stood out shockingly under the luminance of the street light. She was as dramatic as ever, and demanded attention in her short stature and determined eyes.

"You let the Troubletones perform…does this mean that you're not going to say anything about Shelby and Puck?"

She sighed, "Has anyone ever told you, you are incredibly meddling?"

Rachel gave a short confirming nod, "Yes, but I prefer to think of it as naturally inquisitive."

Quinn couldn't stop her lips from turning up into a smile, "That's one way to phrase it."

The calls of their friends drew near. Rachel shuffled through the autumn leaves falling from the tree branching over them closer to Quinn in order to whisper, "But do you think you're going to tell about them?" Even her murmurs were loud, and seemed to echo in the neighborhood street.

Then when it went another millisecond (which was a lifetime in Rachel Berry time) she asked her next question, "And what about the earlier discussion today? Not that I am provoking you to define how you reacted to it now, it's just while I have _many _virtues and admirable qualities, patience regrettably is not one of them."

Quinn said the first thing that came to mind, "Right now, I'm going to…hold on to being seventeen."

It wasn't really an answer. Quinn wasn't exactly sure what she meant by it, but for some reason it left her with a sense of satisfaction. The matter was still not solved, it hadn't even begun to be solved, but that phrase that she had been able to say aloud quelled a certain part of her.

At some point, she would have to elaborate, or give a more definitive reply.

But right now, she was seventeen, she was a senior, and she wasn't going to worry.

* * *

><p>That feeling quickly dissolved. Now that she had inwardly settled the debate with Shelby and Puck fiasco she was left completely alone to her other thoughts.<p>

Shock could finally settle in.

She paced in her room. The walls had been painted back to their cream after she had 'reformed' from her previous rebellion. It screamed good little Christian girl; the image that she had reinvented in order to reclaim her child. What was she supposed to do about this?

The old Quinn would easily use this as an opportunity to publically ruin Rachel, and steal Finn back. But that was old Quinn; the Quinn that hadn't been through child birth and had to spend the excruciating amount of time losing pregnancy fat.

Plus, Rachel had developed a following of people who could be referred to as friends. She knew that Kurt would use every power of gay against her if she destroyed her like that. Breaking apart the Glee club would do her no use now.

She decided to call up the only person she could think of.

"Wow, Quinn Fabray, what a rare call. The only thing I can think of is if your preggo again and want to stop me from telling anyone that your V got hit up with man juice, before I figured it out."

Santana and Quinn were sort of friends. Frenemies. They held a mutual respect for each other that did not need to be titled.

"I'm not pregnant Santana." She stopped walking and sat down on her bed. The ivory and gold covers were rumpled to one side, and the trim scraped against the carpeted floor.

"Then what is it? Because I have a lot of better things to do than talk to some member of a mediocre club that somehow tricked the pathetic judges into letting them win."

Unlike Finn, or mostly anyone, Quinn let the insults brush off her. It wasn't that she chose not to fight back. The unaffected calm tone of her voice was enough of a jab.

"If a girl confessed to you, what would you do?"

There was silence for around a minute. Then Santana snorted. "Are you asking for advice? Because there may be some difference between us that could affect that answer _significantly_." She emphasized the last part with a lisp of her tongue.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "I meant before you knew."

"I would probably end up banging her and then never calling her back." She replied, bluntly and with no hint of shame. "But I had hooked up with Brit before I was out, so I knew there was some lesbo in my lady loins before then."

Then before Quinn could say anything, Santana was laughing. "Wait, wait, do you think that you're into vadges? Because that's just damn funny."

"I do _not _like girls," She bit her tongue at how defensive that sounded, "I'm just not sure the appropriate way to respond."

"Do you want to fuck her?"

"No." Quinn answered immediately.

"Well then just shoot her down. I mean she's got to be pretty ballsy to go after you in the first place."

Quinn bit her lip. There was a delicate balance of information with Santana. Just a little too much would lead to her jumping to conclusions, usually accurate conclusions, and she did not need Santana to be sending her those smirking knowing stares in the hallway.

Right now, she could deny this. If anything further was to be unveiled than it would become progressively harder to.

"It's not exactly as simple as that." She retorted strongly.

Santana clicked her tongue, "The Fabray I know, would dump this girl on her ass faster than she could say dyke….Unless it's someone we know."

She could picture Santana's expression. The corner of her mouth lifted to one side, and her dark eyebrows arched downwards. If she was sitting, her legs would be crossed and she would be leaning backwards in the chair as if she had the world within her grasp.

"I didn't call to say who," She stood up off her bed and fiddled with scattered items on her desk, "and I have no intention of telling you who."

"Frigid bitch," Santana answered nonchalantly, "Well obviously if you've been thinking about this hard enough some part of you wants to screw her."

Quinn hung up the phone.

One the other end Santana was thoroughly intrigued with the current information. Brittany walked out of the bathroom in one of Santana's long button up shirts and joined her sitting on the bed.

"Who was that?" She inquired in her dazed dreamy way.

"Someone who may be considering a team switch." She placed her phone back on the night stand table.

"Oh, I didn't know you liked sports. Unless it's like a team of animals. Like a team of unicorns." She responded affirmatively.

Santana laughed, before leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek.

* * *

><p>Quinn sat with her legs crossed and hands folded in her lap in the navy blue chair of the councilor's office. Any moment, she knew Rachel would be coming in through those glass doors to speak about catching up on her school work from her suspension.<p>

She was right. Rachel slid into the room, and with a jaded voice started, "Well my suspension is officially over." She shut the thick door behind her. "But it will still be on my transcript though." She stopped in front of the identical chair next to Quinn and crossed her arms over her black three quarter length sleeved shirt. She continued her into her agitated speech, "I'm just hoping the admission apartment at NYADA see it as a sign of my artistic rebellious attitude." Her eyes rolled at the last few words.

Quinn couldn't stop the smile from her face as the girl raved. She rose to her feet once she finished, "Good luck with that." She smoothed out any wrinkles on her white dress.

The councilor used her intuition from years of training, and left the two girls alone.

Rachel's voice turned more serious and softer than before. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the woman had left before continuing, "Are you going to go tell Figgins about Shelby? I just," Her eyes focused on the ground, "I think it's a really terrible idea."

Quinn's kept her words punctual and her stare steadied on Rachel, "I came here to talk to you, actually."

Rachel's eyes darted up from the ground to Quinn. There were so many emotions and questions riding on her gaze, that Quinn knew she should quickly clarify before the girl burst. She shook her head with a small shift, "To tell you I'm not going to tell". Her smile remained unchanging.

Rachel's eyes widened and her mouth opened agape in surprise. "Why?" She was shocked speechless.

"Because I love Beth, and I don't want to ruin her life." She nodded in confirmation, "I wanted to thank you actually."

If it was even possible Rachel's surprised face became more shocked. Not only that but it was combined with puzzlement, and misunderstandings. She blinked long eye lashes furiously and Quinn knew there were other thoughts flickering across the surface of her brain. "For what?"

"For keeping me from doing something stupid." She stated concisely, "Something I would have regretted my entire life."

Quinn could see liquid brimming on the bottom lids of her eyes, and she closed them to keep them from spilling. Her head tilted down and her glossed lips widened into a smile. Her voice was shaky whether with laughter or on the brink of tears, "We're kind of friends aren't we?"

Quinn wasn't sure if by the way her head tilted to the side and top teeth showed, if she was asking something else than just that question.

She returned her expression, "Kind of."

Rachel was still smiling, and halfly nodding back in return. Quinn used the dark wooden handles to ease herself back down into the seat with her legs back crossed.

"What do you think about Yale?" She bounced when she landed and her hands reconnected in her lap.

"Oh no I-I have my sights set on NYADA." Rachel pulled her own skirt under her to sit down. Quinn had noticed that the girl's style had improved since the first time they met. Sure, there was the occasional reindeer sweater here and there, but she had been dressing near acceptably for awhile.

Her skirt was tri-colored. The first stripe was yellow matched her beret hat nicely, the second a light grey that complimented her shoes, and the last a black that, mirrored her shirt. She had improved.

"No, for me."

Rachel turned towards her with her usual intensive look.

"I'm not the singer you and Kurt are, but Yale has an amazing drama program."

Rachel nodded and her lips lifted again.

"But I really do like to perform."

Rachel's expression read that it was the most amazing idea she had ever heard. Even though she wasn't jumping up and down, Quinn could tell by the way her eyes quivered, and could barely speak, was better than any lengthy speech. "Y-yeah."

"I'd definitely nail all the parts where the girl has to cry." Her laugh was breathy and filled with sad humor.

Rachel had turned ninety degrees to face Quinn. She was barely on her seat now, most of her was slid to the side. She returned with a similar giggle that scrunched her eyes up, and made the aura in the room a little brighter. "I think it's a great idea!"

She gestured to herself by pressing her sprawled fingers with long white nails to her upper chest. "I mean especially since you wouldn't have me to compete with."

A year ago, Quinn would've wanted to take a swipe at Rachel's face for a comment like that. Instead it just stirred amusement in her.

Than in a sincere voice that was laced with other meanings, "You're a lot better than you think."

The councilor entered again before the conversation could continue in any other direction. She sent Quinn a glare over the rim of her glasses. Quinn could take a hint, and stood up on her heels, "I'll see you at Glee Club."

Rachel's words came out panicked, "Wait Wait wh-where you going?"

She bent one knee, and relaxed her stance, "I've got a couple people I need to talk to."

Rachel continued her offers. "Okay well," She shrugged and twined her fingers together in front of her waist band and twisted them back and forth. She stuck her bottom lip out, "I don't know if you need help with your Yale application-"

"Not with my Yale application, but um," She took an intake of air, "there is something you could do for me."

For a second when Rachel stared at her with a look of total obedience Quinn felt a zing of something zap through her. It was the way Rachel's shoulders were squared and her mouth was pressed shut in full attention.

Then Quinn told her the plan. Her outburst was enough for the councilor to order them to discuss it outside of her office, and with a few conditional requirements that would limit but not cease her 'natural star ability' she agreed. And when she did, Quinn felt the warmth of bliss and confidence. Something about having Rachel Berry supporting her was enough to fill her with assurance.

That and the way the girl looked at her before as if she would do anything Quinn requested, made a certain feeling wrestle up from the pit of her stomach. Her mind traced back to what Santana said and-

She stopped her thoughts from furthering into something. Actually she was horrified at where they were leading. They were friends. Not even that, they were kind of friends.

Quinn wondered what the kind of could stand for.

* * *

><p>If one thing could really convince the Troubletones to return to New Directions was one thing-a blow out party. Sure, Mr. Schuester's was nice, but not somewhere where they could engage in…illicit activities. Well only drinking and some sexual escapades were allowed in the Berry house. They mostly had learned their limits on the former.<p>

Her dads had agreed to give them the entire house for the night. Quinn wasn't sure how she convinced them so quickly and with such ease, but she did.

That evening they all met downstairs in the Berry's Oscar room. She had only been in here once before and even then it was a very fuzzy memory. The furniture was decorative and modern. The island counter to the left of the room had a display of beverages and food on them.

The members were spread out across the room, some were on the stools, and others were on the leather couches and seats. Santana's hysterics were balanced out by the fact that Brittany was removing her clothing. Tina and Mercedes were laughing at something Damian had said(probably just his accent) and he blushed with such attention.

Kurt was keeping a keen eye on Blaine who had a tendency to confuse his sexual orientation while under the influence. He was keeping enough distance between him and Rachel as physically possible. Now Rachel didn't look completely wasted.

Completely being the key word in that sentence. She did look like she had been drinking too much, because she was swaying back and forth with wobbly knees.

Quinn, had a tendency to get…infuriated when she drank too much. Not only that, but when she had gone through her Skankss phase she had also discovered that she had a tendency to do irrational things. She was an angry, irrational drunk, that really shouldn't have been downing as much vodka as she had been.

But hell, it was her senior year; life for the majority was getting better. There was that matter of Rachel, but that could be dealt with easily. In fact she could take care of it right now if she wanted to.

Finn was passed out on the stage. His limbs took up the entire mass of it and onto the floor. Rachel was speaking flirty with Blaine and with Kurt wedged in between them.

Quinn had enough alcohol in her system to be able to slide across the room with her worries residing somewhere far in the back of her mind. If there was any time to let someone down was when they both had too much alcohol to have a huge effect.

Or maybe it would, but either way she was getting this over with _now_, before Santana started continuing her comments from earlier about how she could give Quinn tips on how to properly lick. It was a topic she was not willing to discuss with her, especially with Brittany also in the presence.

Rachel had changed from her school clothing. She was still dressed in a classic Berry outfit. An ocean blue skirt decorated with tiny magenta and lavender flowers. A white polo shirt was hidden under the looser v-neck purple one, and knee socks had slipped down to her calves from all of the motion.

One of Kurt's hands was placed on the sleeve of his boyfriend's burgundy cardigan and the other on Rachel's shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief when Quinn approached them. It was much easier to keep the two apart if another person was added to their trio.

"Quinn, I haven't seen you much tonight." Kurt commented, directing the conversation away from Blaine and Rachel's battle of star-crossed Broadway lovers.

Quinn's lips were painted a raspberry color, and they showed off a row of white teeth when she smiled. She folded her hands in front of the yoke-yellow waistband of her dress.

"I've been making sure that Santana and Brittany are keeping things appropriate for the…Berry household standards."

Rachel's cheeks were flushed and they turned a vermillion red when she indignantly yelled "Brittany better not be removing any articles of clothing. I do not want a repetition of what happened last time!" She quickly pulled away from the two and started to march towards them when Quinn's fingertips caught her forearm.

"Rachel, can we talk?" Quinn's question was at the volume no louder than a whisper. But both Kurt and Blaine had overheard it, and their full attention was caught on the next interaction.

Rachel snapped her head back around. Brown straight hair went flying into her face, when she nodded in the same action.

"Yes. Sure?" Her bemusement was undisguised when her pitch rose towards the end. The two boys exchanged raised eyebrow glances.

She led Rachel through the room. She had begun to babble about something-Quinn wasn't listening and the way her words were slurring together made it difficult to distinguish even with Rachel's actress's enunciation.

Quinn thought of a lot of ways to deny Rachel. They were all very quick and there would leave no room for misconceptions. She had the plan plotted out in her head when she urged Rachel into the bathroom. She would find it ironically humorous how all of their serious conversations tend to happen in restrooms, but she wasn't thinking about that right now.

In fact Quinn's mind had gone completely blank. Almost immediately as the door handle had clicked shut and she took in the sight of the overly decorated room; all of her plans had disappeared.

The slate stone walls seemed to be closer than she last remembered, and Rachel, Rachel was radiating off some sort of drunken heat that as soon she leaned against the counter sink intoxicated the room.

She had this dopey, wide, smile on her face and she hiccupped in between her words, "What'd ya wanna talk about?"

Quinn's response was lost. Her brain signals of telling her what to do were coming across as completely incoherent.

"Ya know, I think it's a really good thing you didn't tell Shelby. That would've hurt everyone and…"

_Does she every shut up? _Quinn could feel the familiar surge of anger the combination of vodka and cherry juice sent through her. It was uncontrollable; even all the time she spent getting wasted with the Skanks, sooner or later her natural self would rear its ugly head.

Rachel on the other hand was just rambling away, and Quinn felt the need to either slap her or or-

Contrary to what people say, when you're not thinking you tend to move faster. Or at least for Quinn that was the case. She moved so quickly, that she almost stumbled in her tan heels and the one of the thin straps of her azure dress fell down to the slanted bone of her shoulder.

Quinn had had many first kisses.

With Rachel, it was awkward. Their chins clashed, forehead bumped, noses collided, and mouths brushed past each other that smeared lip stick on the opposite cheeks.

The second was better.

The third was even more.

But the fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and everyone after were the best kisses Quinn had ever experienced.

With half of her body leaned over the porcelain counter top, and Rachel's back hitting the mirror, it wasn't the easiest position. It was difficult to balance, and they had to keep a stern grip on each other and the counter to keep from falling.

Quinn thought that maybe she was too busy thinking about that to realize anything else. She should've been thinking about a lot of other things. One major was to stop, and that this was completely wrong.

But for some reason the word 'stop' wasn't going through her mind. There were no particular coherent phrases that she was associating with her actions, except for the faint lyric playing in the back of her head.

_Tonight, we are young._

* * *

><p>Is this story about subtext entirely? Yes. Yes it is.<p>

Please review and lemme know what you think, I'm very nervous about this one 'ere.


	2. An Extraordinarily Indecisive Christmas

Hello. There has been generally no amount of Faberry in these episodes. It is rather sad. Anyways this chapter is a little long! There also may be some errors…just because Just Dance interrupted my proof reading. But please read and **review!** Oh small note _Italics are used for flashbacks and emphasis. _

Chapter 2

An Extraordinarily Indecisive Christmas

* * *

><p>It was not unordinary for Quinn and Rachel to go days without speaking to one another. The silence was not anything strange; in fact it was a normal occurrence in their relationship. It was a comfortable one that did not need to be filled with useless small talk, and droning monologue rambles.<p>

However, this break was…unusual.

There was a stiff uncomfortable tension whenever they came within shoulder-brushing distance of one another. At some other time Quinn may have worried about the other Glee clubbers noticing the awkwardness (to her it seemed as obvious as the dead animal that replaced the Mohawk on Puck's head) but something else consumed all their attention.

Christmas.

The Glee club room was decked out with a large glorious tree decorated in long glittering streamers and ornament globes. Music filled the air and Mercedes reverberated throughout the room as they danced without choreography.

At the finish Rachel spun into Fin's arms around a streamer. Her skirt splayed around her and she beamed after they shared a kiss.

"Best Christmas Ever!"

* * *

><p>Rachel Berry's bright and perky face popping up unexpectedly at eight o'clock in the morning was enough to spawn a migraine. Quinn couldn't imagine how <em>anyone <em>could be that happy when forced to go to high school this god damn early.

Then again, she was pretty sure that Rachel lived in her own world of golden microphones and infinite solos.

"Good morning!"

Quinn nodded in response and shut her McKinley red locker. Rachel did not require an in-depth response and continued on to her next point.

"Quinn, even though we have several unresolved issues that are implicating our relationship currently, I believe that during this time of year we should wait to discuss those difficult things until after the holiday season is over." There was a slightly hesitation afterwards, and her breath hitched at the end, in anticipation for Quinn's answer.

She looked down with her eyes fixating on the floor, "Plus it is my first Christmas back together with Finn, and…" She crinkled the paper between her hands and her face formed into a frown.

Quinn snapped her lock shut, and spun around to fully face Rachel. She made her face form into a small smile, truthfully it was only a frown with a slight upturn.

"That's fine." The clip in her tone had the same effect as a slap in the face. Well, Rachel had already received that, and she could say that even though it stung-it was more pleasant that Quinn's completely passive face.

She pushed past Rachel and the two of them strode side by side with Rachel hurried in her step to keep up.

"What's that?" Quinn asked idly, and eyed the piece of paper Rachel grasped between her hands like life support.

"Oh! This is my Christmas list for Finn. He can choose any of these five items!" She swayed back and forth with delight lightening her face. The list was ridiculously long for just fifteen items due to the very clear methods of how to acquire each.

Quinn wasn't sure if it was that or the expression of pure bliss on Rachel's face that filled her with a feeling of reproach.

She snorted and picked up the pace. Rachel, despite her confident stride, was easily jostled in the hallways. Her tiny stature was overlooked and in the more dense crowds she would suffer collisions more than once.

"WellI'm sure that really captures the holiday spirit," She muttered with sarcasm dripping from every word.

"Yes, I think it is a perfect way to express our relationship." Then after a few seconds of silence passed she continued, "I just now became aware that you may not have meant that in a sincere manner."

Quinn tilted her head downwards to catch a glimpse of Rachel's frown that etched over where her smile used to be. Her eyes were focused on the bottom of her strange snowflake/circle patterned shirt that screamed Berry original.

"I don't care how you and Finn express whatever bu-"

"Quinn are you jealous?"

The statement, at least according to Quinn, was entirely out of the blue. She stopped and turned around to Rachel so quickly that her flats made a nasty screeching sound on the tiled floor. Her green eyes were wide with surprise at the accusation, and the books under her arm almost tumbled to the ground.

"_What_? _No!_"

"I understand if you still have feelings for him, I mean you two did hold a deep connection, and I know that my current actions have been less than appropriate for a girl friend. But I'm trying to fix that, there are just many things that complicate the situation. My dads always told me that artists feel more passionately than others, and that it was something I could never be rid of."

That initial surprise soon turned to anger. It was only a misunderstanding on Rachel's part, but the matter of it brought a flush of indignant to her cheeks and a swarm of fury up her body.

Quinn took a deep breath in. The momentary haze of red that clouded her vision also blocked the continued rambles of Rachel. Their position was quite inconvenient to the rest of the hallway. People were weaving around them with frustrated looks, and shoulder clashes.

"I meant not everything is about getting presents."

Rachel's confusion flickered to playful, "Well of course I'm going to get him something to, that would just be absurd not to."

Quinn frowned, sighed. Rachel was insufferable most of the time. Usually, Quinn noticed in the past, she learned from her mistakes quickly. That generally took a little over a week, but through the process she made more intolerable comments.

It always briefly reminded Quinn why she was in a battle between resenting and tolerating Rachel.

"Rachel," She put on her sickly sweet smile she used to soften the blow, whenever she was about to say something cruel, "not _everything _is about you".

She walked away swiftly, and left Rachel a little shocked and a lot puzzled.

* * *

><p>Quinn had done terrible things to Rachel. She had drawn pornographic pictures, slandered her name, slapped her, and once or twice remarked that she was getting a nose job to fix that obstruction on her face. That was before they were 'friends'. Honestly, Quinn always knew that their friendship would either be complementary lies or painfully blunt truths.<p>

She was wrong about there being any sort of sexual attraction between the two of them-so maybe her interpretation skills were not as strong as she prided.

She knew that something was wrong. Normally, Rachel pestered her at least once a day, but for the past three days Rachel had avoided her like Quinn caught strep.

She couldn't tell if when Rachel walked into the Glee club whether she would look like a kicked puppy, an infuriated diva, in a still confused daze, or simply revert back to normal.

Quinn was already seated when Rachel entered. She was wearing a visually assaulting red dress. She slipped past Quinn to get to her seat on the second row. Finn had yet to finish football practice and would be arriving later with the other boys.

As she passed by Quinn she dropped a neatly folded note sealed with a golden star into her lap. Quinn believed that the action went completely unnoticed by anyone. Rachel maneuvered with grace and Quinn tucked it into her black jacket pocket neatly. The stealth plus the limited number of members in the room shouldn't have drawn any attention to the exchange.

Or so she thought.

However one person in the room had seen the exchange. Though she spoke nothing of it immediately, her devious mind was still trying to form pieces of the puzzle. It was still in the early rounds of the game, and completely impossible to deduce anything yet.

The witness was about to comment, when the boys of the club ran through the door, and Rory launched into a somber ballad. By then, her head was filled with things to insult the song rather than what had happened previously.

"Gosh, that song was so depressing; I may actually be dead right now." Santana insensitively commented.

Rachel was quick to step in after wards. She twirled her fingers around her straight brown hair while speaking quickly, "I-I think what Santana," She gestured and turned her head around to her fellow glee mate, "t-hat what Santana means is although that was mournfully beautiful, now that the whole Glee club is back together that we should focus on the more…" She clenched her fist in front of her with a radiant grin, "joyous and pageant aspect of this holiday season."

Her smile was like a salesman cutting their way into a deal.

"Rachel's right, last Christmas was super sad, Kurt was at another school, coach Sylvester trashed everything, and Artie got a pair of magic legs that broke the next day," Tina continued, "We were the island of misfit toys. This year is gonna be-"

"This year is a whole new sprig of mistletoe!" Mr. Schue came sliding into the Glee club room, and shed his scarf as he did. "Guess who's not getting goal in their stocking for once?" He set it down on the nearby chair, and looked at his students with his serious, slightly grinning face, "Us."

He patted the transfer student on the back, "Rory have a seat."

Mr. Schue had several looks, and Quinn knew this one. It was his extremely excited expression that was trying to deliver the good news on maximum impact, no matter how long it actually took.

"I just got off the phone with Don Barowsky, the local station manager, at Lima's PBS affiliate. Turns out, that their annual broadcast of the Yule log burning has been cancelled."

Puck's head, squirrel Mohawk and all, snapped up, "The hell?"

"Yeah, they can't afford the licensing fees anymore." He clasped his hands together in a prayer motion, "But thank you Scrooges that own that copyright, because," He spread his hands apart, "Don came to sectionals. He loved what we did, and he is offering us-"

Rachel cut in, "A Christmas special featuring all of us?" She tilted her seat with her hands gripped at the edges, "Okay please say you said yes!"

"Not only did I say yes, but when Don said they were looking for a director for the special, I nominated you Artie."

Artie did not look as happy as Schue expected him to-as all of them did. He looked a little bewildered, a lot disapproving.

"Me?"

"Yeah, he saw Westside story, loved your work, and he wants to take a meeting."

Artie's expression transformed into a disgusted one when he continued, "But…I…" He looked back and forth at his other members, "I swore I would never sell out and do television." Mr. Schuester's face fell with every word. "I'm really going to have to think about this, Mr. Schue."

Quinn almost snorted, was it just recently that she had been noticing these flaws or was the holiday season just enunciating them? Whatever, she was still just as excited as the rest (minus Artie) for a chance to be featured.

Mr. Schue let out an exasperated sigh, while the rest of the members shared looks of disbelief.

The rest of the meeting went by fast once they overcame the awkward silence. They finalized plans, started to discuss repertoires, but the excitement caused a commotion that was hard to get anything done. Quinn slipped out first, and to a private place where she could read the note folded in her pocket.

It was no surprise-Rachel always had to be the dramatic.

* * *

><p>The time when Rachel was most appealing was when she was singing. In fact if she sang every long drawn out sentence then people may tolerate her more.<p>

Or maybe not.

The ballad was moving, stirring, not at all happy, but not sad either. It was a mixture of emotion. For Quinn, it seemed like Rachel was portraying a deep sense of longing that made her avert her eyes whenever the brown ones found their way over. It wasn't sorrowful, like Rory's, but so brimming with emotion that it didn't depress nor lift you. When it was over Quinn felt drained and hollow.

They clapped slowly; Quinn slouched further into her seat.

"Rachel could you come see me?" Artie's voice was not pleased in the slightest.

"Yes, Artie, of course," She had the look of an eager puppy wagging its tail for praise, "And if this is about my ears, I know they're a little bit naked right now, but that's just because I'm waiting for something special." She sent a very obvious look to Finn, "Something that's really going to sparkle and you know, catch the light. So what's up?" Her voice dropped down to a whisper, and made it impossible for Quinn to hear any of the conversation.

It looked like she had thought about nothing they had spoken of from before.

_Quinn did not like being bossed around. She may have recently been quiet about her opinions but that did not mean she didn't have any. Therefore when Rachel's note ordered her to meet at her locker at "Precisely a quarter past noon" or in any normal language, the beginning of their lunch period, Quinn was tempted not to show up, just for the desire to disobey Ms. Berry's wishes. _

_And if sensing this temptation, Rachel found her first. _

"_Quinn!" She skipped over to her. The now Mystery Machine green dress with two oddly placed bows sashayed around her knees. "I was worried that you may not be inclined to meet me or perhaps forgot about out my note, and therefore I thought that it would be better if I found you. Of course, I'm sure that you would come to see me, but seeing as how our discussion ended last time I wasn't quite sure." _

_Quinn nodded, and flipped through her wallet to check if she had the right amount of money. Now that she had gotten rid of all stretch marks, and her extra pregnancy flab, she felt that she could eat two meals a day again. She closed her locked shut, and started towards the cafeteria. Despite how many calories were branded on those meals-it was better than anything at her own place. _

"_So, I have been thinking about what you said, and I think I have come to a conclusion about what you were saying." _

_Quinn knew not to be surprised until Rachel said something worthwhile. _

"_This is obviously about our…excursion. I realize know when you said not everything is about me," She pressed a hand to her chest in a gesture, "You really meant that I should be more considerate of Finn's feelings, and be careful about how to approach the subject of what I-we- did." _

_There was that anger, frustration- there needed to be a new word invented just to describe how Quinn felt around Rachel Berry. _

"_I actually want to avoid the topic with him for awhile. Finn is such a kind sweet soul, and admittedly not the brightest, but that's just part of his generic charm." _

_The hallway was almost empty now, the strands of students had separated into their various lunch groups or filed into the cafeteria. _

"_So I know that this just isn't about me, as you said, so I'm asking you if you want to pretend it never happened? Of course we probably can never quite, but as actresses we can manage." Her voice ended on a high hopeful note. _

_Quinn rolled her eyes, but put that same smile on her face, "Fine," She didn't add that that wasn't what she meant at all. _

_Rachel didn't look pleased with her answer. In fact, she looked rather disappointed. Quinn understood how difficult it must be for Finn. In Rachel's head everything was a Broadway play with her own twists, turns, and expected endings. Almost everything said was the wrong thing, and the right ones were nearly not exuberant enough._

_Her voice was low in a whisper, even though there was no one else around, "Are you sure? I mean…"_

"_I was talking about how you have a knack," She chose her words carefully, "for believing that the world turns around Rachel Berry." Still probably not the most polite way to phrase that, but there would always be that part of her that wanted to see her sad tortured expression._

_Instead she laughed. "Yes, I have been told that is one of my major faults. Thankfully, my talent makes up for that."_

_They reached the entrance of the cafeteria. For them to walk inside together would be a strange, and both knew that they would have to separate before entering. They stopped before parting, to finish the dwindling remains of their conversation. _

"_So you were meaning to say that I have been….egocentric?" She said the last word lowly with her lip caught between her teeth. _

_Quinn didn't respond. _

_Rachel tucked a piece of hair behind her and her tan cheeks flushed a light pink, "Well that's rather embarrassing. I thought you were speaking of something else entirely." _

_Quinn bent down to her level. She constantly forgot how short Rachel was in comparison, and she had to bend her back quite a bit to reach her height, and whisper close to her, "Let's forget". _

* * *

><p>Rachel's voice rose to an indignant cry, "And what is that exactly?"<p>

Artie addressed the entire club with his next speech, "We begin in the Swiss Alps, in the village of Gstaad," He spun his chair through the pathway of the theater, "In the perfectly appointed living room of Kurt Hummel and Blaine Anderson's chic, swank, chalet." He stopped in the middle, his eyes focused ahead as he stared at something. Quinn assumed it was his 'creative' vision. "The tree? Towering and opulent. The fireplace? Draped in garlands. The stockings? Bejeweled." He gestured to the two boys sitting in the row next to him, "Kurt and Blaine, the perfect hosts, have invited their friends to drop in, for an evening of Noel Coward-esque banter and fun, happy, cheer-filled songs".

Rachel looked like someone had repeatedly dumped slushies all over her. Her tone quivered when she asked, "Are you telling me I'm not invited to Kurt and Blaine's for Christmas?"

Artie didn't seem to notice or care about the raw hurt as he replied, "Not unless you pick a happier song".

Rachel made a gasping noise, and Quinn couldn't tell if she was fighting back words or if it was the result of her 'punched in the stomach' expression.

He wheeled back over to his previous position, "The evening festivities conclude with Rory dressed as the Christmas elf Itchy, reciting 'Frosty the Snow Man', start with fun, end with fun, _that's _how you do it, kids."

Was this sounding more and more ridiculous or was it just Quinn?

Sam turned in his seat so he was facing Artie. He did not sound amused at all when he spoke up, "The Frosty story isn't fun. At the end he melts and dies."

Artie's smile did not fade, "I'm rebooting Frosty, in my version he doesn't melt. He…well, new pages forthcoming."

Oh it was _definitely _not just Quinn.

Apparently she wasn't the only one who realized how ludicrous the plan was, because Sam rose from his seat with his mouth in a firm line, and his hands clenched at his sides.

"What's wrong with a story that's a little sad? Or a song that's a little depressing? I mean, that's part of Christmas too right? It's the sad things that make you remember what's real."

There was a dull ache in Quinn's chest when he said that, truthfully that last statement was the one that she could relate to the most. More so than any heat-proof snowman.

"It's the sad things that make you remember what's really important."

Artie shot down Sam without a moment of consideration, "Sorry Sam, but the phrase is 'Merry Christmas' not 'Morose Christmas'" He swung his fist in the air, "That's the vision! That's what you have to buy into."

"Well sorry Artie, I'm not buying into it."

Quinn was mildly impressed. Who knew that the broke stripper had such morals and guts?

"I'm going to go downtown, see if I can ring one of those Salvation Army Bells. Come on Roy, I'll give you a ride." He stopped turning back towards the younger boy in the seat expectantly. Quinn didn't know what was going on between the two (frankly she had been too distracted by her own hidden relations to pick up on others) but Rory looked incredibly conflicted. He glanced around the auditorium in indecision.

Finally in a low regretful voice he replied, "I should memorize my parts Sam."

Sam turned away and made a very Berry-like diva storm out.

* * *

><p>After Artie's hint that the songs needed to be less 'blue' and more uplifting, the Glee club members got the hint. Or at least Blaine and Rachel did. They were both, especially Rachel; milking him for all he was worth. It was the most kiss-ass performance Quinn had ever seen. Still nice, still fun, but purely just to impress him.<p>

All was going well afterwards, Artie was singing their praises and designing a vision around them. Then Sue Sylvester came in.

Everything went south.

Through the commotion and excitement, all of the members had forgotten about their other engagement on Friday evening. Of course, Sue hadn't and the homeless had not either. Her visit was quick, and if she didn't already hate the Glee club now, she certainly did after Artie rejected her offer for Friday.

Artie was quick with the comebacks though, reminding Sue of everyone of her sins, but that did not ease the tension of the situation. Then she asked if they all agreed on the matter.

Every fiber of Quinn's body was screaming a resounding no, but nothing came out of her mouth.

Sue left with a bitter gritted Merry Christmas, and slammed her clipboard as she walked out.

When Artie told them to smile and start over, Quinn realized that she did not want any part of this. She felt distant from the crowd, as if her mind belonged somewhere better than fake cheery smiles and rewritten story books. It was a fog that came over her, only to be interrupted by Sam slamming back his chair.

"We are seriously going to leave homeless children for a Christmas special?"

He looked around at his fellow Glee members awaiting their agreement. When none came he continued his speech.

"These kids have nothing, and we are seriously going to take this away from them too?" There was only silence that greeted his outburst. That and a few guilty stares directed at the floor. One of which was Rachel's who just finally received the message that the homeless would not be able to see their Christmas spectacular.

Artie was the only one to talk back, "Sam, we all feel terrible about not singing at the shelter. But this is a big opportunity for us, and we can't afford to lose thi-"

Sam stomped down to the ground level and towards the door. He held his hands up in exasperation, "Yeah, and the homeless can't afford anything, they don't have anything." He took a deep breath, and lowered both hands so one rested on the door frame.

"When I came back to McKinley, I did it for the people who would help other misfits. I'm going down to that shelter, and helping them. If you want to come with me you can." He announced, but he was out the door before anyone could turn around to follow him.

Quinn rose from her seat. She adjusted her skirt, and intertwined her fingers over her front. She spoke with the grace of a previous head cheerio, "I agree with Sam." Her exit was far less dramatic, but in general had a quiet impact that left the club stunned. "I'm leaving too."

She glided across the room and out the door. She heard a strangle cry of "Quinn!" coming from Rachel, but that was all.

Holy God did that feel amazing.

She saw Sam's back, and caught up her with her heels clicking against the tiled floor. She tapped him lightly on the shoulder, and he slowly turned around. She could see he was furious, and his mouth was open to tell off whoever he thought came after him.

"I…don't want to be in the Christmas special."

His rage melted into a half of a smile. He scratched the back of his head and laughed. "That's a relief. I was kind of hoping _someone _would follow me."

The stepped into pace with each other and headed towards the parking lot. The different club members cars were the only ones left, and it looked empty without the mass of poorly parked vehicles.

"You seemed pretty confident."

He clapped a hand on her shoulder. It was a friendly action; there was no romantic intention behind it. He was desperately in love with Mercedes, and Quinn was dealing with her own issues. Not that they were anything she would share with Sam no matter how trusting his blue eyes looked.

"Yeah, well it still helps to not be alone." He slid his hand off and shrugged, "It would still be nice though, if the others got it too, ya know?"

Quinn's raspberry lips upturned slightly at the corners as an idea formed into her mind. She didn't have time to weigh the consequences that was the last thing she was thinking of when she noticed the depressed look in Sam's eyes.

"I think…I could help with that."

* * *

><p>"Quinn!"<p>

Rachel Berry's mouth was set into a firm line. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a mixture of anger and confusion. There was a thin wrinkle stretched across her forehead that became visible when her bangs flung back as she marched towards Quinn.

Right on time.

Sam left after exchanging information about the time tonight. As she searched for her keys, she was counting down the seconds till someone stormed out after them. If it was just Sam-they would pay it no mind. But Quinn was a _tentative _member of the club, more so than Sam at least. With two of them gone, it would create more of an uproar. Sam had long left in his truck that spat smoke out of the tail pipe, and this left Quinn as the only one to confront.

Quinn could just imagine Rachel standing up from her seat, and delivering a speech about how the unity of the club was important, and then Finn seconding. Of course it was very possible that Artie shut them both down, and when it came between fame and friends; Quinn couldn't imagine Rachel choosing the latter.

She wondered what discussion had occurred from the rest of the club that caused he charge through the empty parking lot, with one white shoe stomped after the other.

"Everyone was in an up riot!"

Quinn paused and left the key hanging in the slot, and slid out of her car seat. Rachel stood on the other side. Her hands were clenched at the fabric of her navy dress, the snowflake patterns crushed against her palms.

"The entire club is broken on whether this is a decent idea or not. This is our shot to become stars, and now everyone doubts if it is the right thing. At first we just thought it was because of Sam's economic situation that he would be more inclined to turn down the opportunity, but now that you are too, everyone has become divided on the matter."

Rachel marched over to the right side of the car. She didn't seem as anger as first perceived, more frustrated and flustered.

In a whispering voice with her eyes focusing downward and lips quivering she added, "I'm not sure why you don't want to be on television."

Quinn put on a pageant winning smile, "Because Christmas is about giving."

"We _are _giving. The gift of my, our, talent for public display is a superb gift!" She answered with defiance.

Quinn sighed for about the umpteenth time today, "Rachel haven't you ever wondered what it is like to not have a home or not have any food?"

Rachel was completely silent.

Quinn made an odd noise, not a laugh but a more cynical sound. "When I think of Beth, even if she's not going to be mine, I don't want her to experience that, to be deprived of happiness. When Coach Sue was talking today all I could think about is what if, what if one of those kids was Beth and the only thing they had to look forward to was us…."

"But Beth isn't your daughter Quinn," Rachel's voice was quiet and hesitant. The topic was taboo, but they had visited Quinn's issues with that in the past, and the other girl was more or less confirming that it wasn't starting up again. Either that or she was trying to change the subject.

She rolled her eyes. "It was an example. I know," Quinn took a deep intake of breath, "Beth is Shelby's daughter, but it doesn't only have to be family that you care about. Even if they are strangers, they still…need our help, someone's help. So why aren't we giving it when we can?"

Rachel averted all eye contact, but she looked like she had been hit. Her mouth was slightly agape in shock, and tears brimming at the corners of her eyelids. As she raised her head, Quinn noticed all of this, and that once again Rachel Berry was at a loss for words.

"…I never thought of it like that."

This speech was turning out more emotional than Quinn had planned. She wanted to quickly woo Rachel into taking up her side, though she now realized that was a mere fantasy seeing how _nothing _with Rachel Berry went quick or agreeably.

"We…can't just abandon the show either, I mean they won't have anything to show…and this could be my big break."

Quinn dipped down into a close distance. It was awkward, trying to match Rachel's height, especially when Quinn wore low heels, and the other girl stuck to her oddly-designed flats.

"I've already made my choice."

If Rachel was interpreting any other double meaning behind that, she was first wrong and second dumbfounded.

"W-well I mean there are a lot of other factors that come in to play, without my voice how would the show survive? Sure, they are talented but without my astonishing soprano, the show can't possibly be as good."

Quinn backed away and opened the driver's seat of her car. She was in mid-crouch position when Rachel spoke again, "How long will you be at the shelter?"

The smirk that formed on Quinn's face was gone when she turned around to Rachel again.

* * *

><p>As soon as she arrived at the shelter she was given a starch white apron to cover her cheery red and pale pink blouse, and a pair of gloves. The woman in charge gave her one disapproving look from her flowered head band to her expensive shoes until Sam came running over.<p>

"So do you really think they'll come?" He called from afar before trotting over to meet her.

She grinned; it was small and barely showed any teeth, but still a grin. "I don't know, maybe."

She dished another plate of the mysterious looking 'casserole', and Sam joined her in line taking his serving spoon eagerly. After a few scoops, he rubbed his hands together and watched her out of the corner of his eye. The look did not go unnoticed by Quinn.

"What?" Her tone was light and teasing.

"Everyone's just been telling me you've been having a rough year, but you seem pretty good to me".

She slightly nodded while raising her arm to scoop another spoonful. Her conversation with Rachel from before sprung back into her mind again. Beth.

"I'm better." In a murmur she added, "I think I was just stuck focusing on everything I didn't have, and not on the stuff that was good." A small smile played across her lips, "Stuff in the future."

"_How long will you be at the shelter?" _

_Quinn didn't stand back up, but instead sat down in her seat. She craned her neck backwards so she could still see Rachel. The position was uncomfortable. _

"_Awhile most likely, nothing Coach Sue does is unimpressive." _

_Rachel smiled slightly. Quinn couldn't tell if she was embarrassed or not. Surely, Rachel got ashamed of her actions every once in awhile, but Quinn wasn't sure if she reflected on them. _

_When the discussion drawled into a silence, Quinn moved to leave, but Rachel interrupted the action. _

"_Finn got me a pig for Christmas. Well, it's technically this African South pig-or something like that. He said that he's going to pay to feed it for a few months, and then when it's fat they'll kill it and feed it to the starved." _

_Quinn snort turned into a laugh that she tried to stifle with her palm, "Aren't you a vegan? I just remember from the whole egg thing." _

_Rachel cringed at the memory, and shook her head as if to dispel it from her mind. "Yes, I originally wanted a good luck charm as on my list. Even though I personally would rather go hungry than eat anything with a face I think…I'm going to keep it. Sure, I don't like the idea of animals being brutally slaughtered, but I think you had a point before…" _

"_Well, who would I have ever thought that I would get Rachel Berry to selflessly kill a pig?"_

_It was Rachel's turn to laugh, "That does not sound like something to be proud of. But it has a few more months before it becomes…edible. So I guess it's…death…will be something they can look forward to in the future."_

_Quinn smile appeared again, "You don't sound at all happy." _

"_I'm trying."_

"I'm glad you turned it around." Sam's voice had brought her out of the reverie. The conversation had dropped to a serious level, and Quinn was aware now was not the time to be remembering conversations about selflessly killing pigs.

"You deserve good things Quinn."

When their eyes met, Quinn was reminded of what she liked about Sam. He was always honest; she tended to be more inclined to honest people. Maybe that's why she had tolerated Santana for so long, and was developing some sort of dysfunctional relationship with Rachel.

Huh, Rachel sure seemed to be coming into her mind with Sam around.

"I'm trying," she nodded this time in reassurance of her answer. The loud voice of Sue Sylvester ripped the two apart from their bonding moment. She broke between them and examined the contents they were dishing.

"Ah ah ah! Portion Control, Bee sting. Come on." She took the handle of the spoon out of Sam's hand and muttered, "Guess you're just not used to being on this side of the serving line." She elbowed him out of the way, to fully take his place.

Quinn tried to change the topic. "Seriously though, I don't think we have enough food for everybody."

Sue's voice sounded sad down to a level Quinn rarely heard it yet, "Yeah. Economy gets bad, people give less."

Then, what they had been waiting for all night burst into the room. The McKinley Glee club pushed through those doors.

"Hey!" Mr. Schue led the pack. He held the doors open for the other members to enter, Artie carried a bowl on his lap, and Mike Chang carried a present bag. They were right on cue. In slow motion Coach Sue's frown formed into a classic smile.

Emma pushed Artie over towards him, "I know we're late, but we were all hoping there's still time to help. We brought the turkey from the special with all the fixings"

Rachel, who was accompanying Finn on his arm, shot a Quinn a coy look with a half grin. Quinn returned it, and wondered just what exactly happened when Rachel returned to the Glee club.

Will joined on Artie's side and continued, "Yeah it's a prop but it's real."

Sue was delighted-in a way that was hard to spot, "Why don't you put it over there kiddo?"

Sam was wearing the same expression, "You guys finally came around."

Finn was standing near the purple tree, answered 'Well you can thank Rory for helping us see the light."

Rory saw Sam's smile widened at that, and he followed the same suite, "I was just following my Christmas Sponsor's lead."

Puck was wearing a hat that was almost as ugly as the patch of fur that normally ran down the center of his head. "Would it be weird if I made myself a plate?"

His comment was ignored, and Artie continued, "We have a song too, We were gonna perform it as our final number for our Christmas Special, but we lost the final ten minutes of air time, when the station reached a last-second agreement with those Yule log people."

For once, Sue didn't object to their songs, "As long as it's not 'Jingle-Bells'. It seems it's the only song our janitor knows how to play, and I'm bleeding from my ears."

Quinn took off her apron and joined the rest of the glee members. She folded it across her arms and stood next to an ecstatic Rachel. Before they started singing they exchanged another look that went unnoticed. Even by Santana, who had been watching the two like a hawk the moment they stepped in.

Their rendition of 'Do they know it's Christmas' was inspiring and brought up the mood to an even higher level. They handed out presents; Mike Chang danced with the children. The evening turned into a joyous event, more so than it would have been without the Glee club.

At the end when they were cleaning up the torn wrapping paper scraps, and empty plates, Rachel joined Quinn. The two were by themselves, with the exception of Sam and Rory who were scraping the dishes.

"I was wrong. I think that….doing this was better than any present I could receive."

She wiped off the table, while Quinn picked up the trash from the ground. She placed them into a giant plastic bag hanging over a chair.

"I thought the grand Rachel Berry never admitted she was wrong."

Quinn couldn't tell if Rachel took offense in that or not. She was standing behind her, slowly making a round across the floor to get scraps. She thought the slight twitch in her shoulders was a silent laugh.

"The rest of the glee members just believed it was some fleeting prompt, that I had been inspired by some strange source or something. Rory was the only one who really followed me up. Without him, it would have been disastrous."

"Oh, well, who inspired you to come to this realization?"

"I never said anything about being inspired by someone." Quinn made her round to the other side. She was facing Rachel who was making a very sad attempt to clean the surface. Quinn couldn't decide if she was distracted by their conversation or just wasn't used to having to work without solely using her esophagus.

"How do you know it was under the influence of someone else?"

Quinn smiled slyly, "I have been acknowledged as a great guesser."

"Is that so? I didn't know that Quinn Fabray had any such hidden skills." Her light proper prim voice teased.

Quinn enjoyed this rapport, "Well, not all of us flaunt our talents."

"Then you can probably guess what I want to tell her."

Where did all the people go? Sure they had all filed into their various corners, and the Glee club members left, but it seemed _more _vacantthan before. Rachel's voice hovered above a whisper. Quinn rose from her crouched position, and leaned across the table (avoiding the various spots) dropped her voice down to a volume a little lower than Rachel's.

"Actually I think there are many possibilities."

Rachel looked taken aback, and as if Quinn was right, she sputtered for a few seconds before replying, "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"Are you sure, absolutely positively sure, that you want to forget?"

* * *

><p>Sorry this was kinda long, but please <strong>review!<strong> I like those, they're fun :D


End file.
